


Speechless

by ByTheLightOfAThousandSuns



Series: Journey to Recovery [1]
Category: Jack West Jr Series - Matthew Reilly
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 08:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20255236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByTheLightOfAThousandSuns/pseuds/ByTheLightOfAThousandSuns
Summary: One death defying rescue later, Pooh and Stretch finally have a chance to reconnect.





	Speechless

**Author's Note:**

> It always bugged me that Jack ended up getting most of the credit for Stretch's rescue, so I finally wrote a scene I've been sitting on for ages.

He could hear a tap dripping nearby. There was also something beeping, very, very softly in the corner. He had no idea what it was, but he could still hear it. And he could hear the engines, an underlying roar which would usually have been nothing more than a background blur.

How had he never noticed how noisy the Halicarnassus was before?

Slowly, stiffly, he rolled over in the bed, trying to stop himself from smiling as he heard the blankets rustle against each other. After all, they were just blankets. But he could hear them. He could hear all of it.

The click of a door caught his attention and he looked up. A sliver of warm light crept into the otherwise dim room as the narrow door slid open and a figure slipped inside. They were trying to move quietly, tiptoeing around comically as they tried to close the door again without a sound. 

'I'm awake you know.' Stretch decided to put him out of his misery.

Pooh-Bear jumped comically and slammed a hand over his chest. He whirled around and glared at Stretch, although it lacked any level of real conviction. 'Stop doing that!'

'Doing what?' Stretch asked innocently.

'Scaring me.' Pooh heaved a dramatic sigh, still clutching his chest. 'You should be asleep.'

Ignoring the painful twinge in his muscles, and the loud complaining of his joints, Stretch eased himself up on the bed, wincing as he sat back against the wall. Pooh noticed and he hurried to his side. Stretch felt the comforting warmth of Pooh's arm around his shoulders, his hand braced against his arm as he helped him to sit, steadying him. A small wave of disappointment hit when the touch withdrew, and he had to fight the desire to reach out and grab Pooh's hand again. 

His friend smiled at him as sat on the chair beside the bed. 'You really should be sleeping you know.'

Stretch shrugged. 'I'm not tired yet.'

'Liar. You're exhausted, I can see it.'

'Well, so are you,' Stretch shot back.

It wasn't a lie. Pooh really did look exhausted. Even though he had taken the time to clean himself up and find fresh clothes, he still didn't look quite right. The usual jovial light in his eyes was dimmer, and every move he made seemed heavy with weariness. But despite this, his smile was still as warm as ever. Reaching out, he took Stretch's hand and clasped it between both of his, and the tightness in Stretch's chest eased a little more.

'I was just making sure that you were alright,' he said sombrely. 'Are you feeling any better?'

Stretch nodded. 'A little.'

Technically that was true. He was feeling a little bit better, but that still didn't mean he felt great. Everything ached, every muscle and every joint. Even his head hurt, a dull, persistent throb behind his eyes. But he was trying to focus on the positives. He could move, he could see and he could hear something other than his own heart beat. Surely that counted for something.

Pooh watched him carefully for a few seconds, before he shifted forward, reaching out as if he wanted to help him lie back down. 'You'll feel better after you've rested. Come on.'

'I don't want to sleep yet.’ Stretch clumsily attempted to push Pooh back, cursing the heaviness of his limbs and the sharp bolt of pain which lanced through his head at the sudden movement. 

However ineffective the attempt was though, Pooh seemed to get the message and he retreated back. He didn’t seem offended though, or even confused. Instead, a look of gentle understanding crossed his face and he nodded. 

‘Would it be easier if I stayed with you?’ He asked at length. 

It was perhaps the most tempting offer Stretch had ever received. The idea of closing his eyes and trying to sleep while he was alone in the darkness made his stomach flip and his skin crawl. It was like the idea of being alone set off a little voice of doubt in the back of his mind. What if this was just another dream? Goodness knows how many times he had dreamed of escaping, of being rescued, only to have his hopes dashed again and again every time he opened his eye stop murky green darkness. And as dreams had bled into his waking thoughts, and those thoughts back into dreams, it had become progressively harder and harder to tell what was real, and what wasn’t. 

His hand flexed unconsciously, as if trying to break free of a manacle that was no longer there. Shaking himself out of it, he looked back at Pooh-Bear, realising that he still hadn’t answered. He wanted to say yes. Heck, if he could have his way he would have flung his arms around the big, burly Arab and never let go again. But he stopped himself when he once again saw the weary stoop of his shoulders.

In spite of himself, he shook his head. ‘No. You need to rest as well.’

‘Not as badly as you do,’ Pooh said insistently. ‘Trust me my friend, I’m fine.’

‘So am I. You’ve already done more than enough for me, you don’t need keep pushing yourself for my sake.’ Stretch tried to smile, but even he could tell just how in-genuine it was. ‘I’m fine. Really.’

The crease of Pooh’s eyebrows into a frown was enough to say that he didn’t believe him. Softening, he stood from the chair and slowly came to perch beside him on the bed. Stretch said nothing, focusing instead on picking at a loose thread on the edge of his jumper. 

‘Do you think I resent coming for you?’ Pooh’s voice was soft and so filled with sympathy that it almost physically hurt. 

‘No, I just…I just think that you’ve already done so much for me that it would be rude to ask you to do more.’ Stretch still didn’t look at him, but he could feel his presence right beside him as he rested his arm across the back of the bed. 

‘Stretch, come on. You know I wouldn’t think that about you.’

‘Can we just drop it? I’m okay. Now go to bed.’ He attempted to nudge Pooh off the bed, very unsuccessfully. 

Pooh was just watching him now with raised eyebrows. ‘I’m not leaving.’

‘Then I’m not sleeping.’

Pooh sighed, not so much out of exasperation, but resignation. ‘Stretch, you know it’s easier when you talk about what’s troubling you.’

Silence answered him as Stretch just continued to tug at the loose thread, unravelling it from the jumpers hem. He stopped when Pooh’s hand rested over his, but still didn’t look up at him. 

‘Stretch?’ Pooh coaxed him gently. 

‘I don’t know how to.’ Stretch muttered so softly that it was hard to hear him. 

‘How to what?’

‘I don’t know how to say thank you.’ Finally he got up the guts to look Pooh in the eyes. 

He saw the confusion as it flickered across his friends face. ‘What do you mean?’

Swallowing, trying to ignore the dry pain in his throat, Stretch fumbled to find the right words. ‘I mean, I don’t know how to thank you properly for what you did.’

Pooh offered him a lopsided shrug, a ghost of a smile appearing beneath his beard. ‘You don’t need to-’

‘Yes I do!’ Stretch snapped, regretting it immediately as his vision swum and another sharp headache spiked behind his eyes*. ‘Yes I do.’

He blinked, pressing the heel of his palm against his brow bone, trying to squash the persistent headache out of existence. Pooh remained mercifully silent, but Stretch could feel him watching him. 

Gathering himself, he finally managed to speak again. 'I need to find a way to tell you just how grateful I am...but I can't seem to get the words right.' His breathing hitched in his throat. 'You saved me and I need you to know how thankful I am, but I can't just say "thank you", because that's not enough and you deserve better than that-'

He cut off as he was suddenly pulled into a tight, warm embrace. Pooh's arms wrapped around him, holding him close against his chest, gently silencing his rambling. Fingers brushed across his cheek, wiping away tears that Stretch hadn't even realised were there. With shaking hands he grasped at Pooh's shirt, closing his eyes as he sank into his arms. The pounding of his heart in his head eased as the tension began to leach from his muscles, replaced by the warmth and strong comfort of having Pooh right there with him.

'Thank you,' he managed to whisper, the words catching in his throat.

'You have nothing to thank me for,' Pooh muttered. 'Do you hear me, my friend?'

'But you saved me...'

'Because I care about you. Because I couldn't imagine a life without you there by my side.' For a second, Pooh paused. 'And because I love you.'

At first, Stretch said nothing. He raised his head from Pooh's chest to look up at him, seeing his smile, so genuine and reassuring. His throat felt dry all over again and he swallowed thickly, not sure of what to say, wishing his brain wasn’t so foggy so he could actually think of a response. Thankfully, he didn't have to say anything as Pooh gently kissed his forehead, and eased him back into his embrace.

'Now, you really do need to sleep. All of this will become so much easier after you have given yourself a chance to rest.' There was a soft touch of fingers stroking through his hair, smoothing it back from his face. 

Despite himself, his eyes closed, all the exhaustion and the mind-numbing weariness creeping up on him. It was like it had sensed his moment of vulnerability as he allowed himself to fall further into the encompassing embrace.

Even with his eyes closed he could see Pooh's smile and his grip on his shirt loosened as he blindly reached out to take his hand. There was a chuckle as Pooh’s fingers wound through his, squeezing tightly. A comfortable silence followed, a silence in which he could hear the strong, steady beat of Pooh's heart, casting away the final threads of isolation and crushing loneliness that he had endured over the last few weeks.

Right before the inescapable tendrils of sleep could pull him under, he managed to pull himself together enough to mutter a few final words. 'I love you too.'

He smiled when he heard Pooh respond. 'That is thanks enough. Now sleep. I promise I will be right here when you wake up.'

Stretch didn't doubt him at all. His final grip on conscious reality slipped away and finally, for the first time in weeks, he slept properly, reassured that when he did finally wake he would still be perfectly safe with the person he trusted more than anything or anyone else on this earth.

**Author's Note:**

> *One of the symptoms of prolonged formaldehyde exposure is headaches. I swear I'm not just making this up


End file.
